Upside Down
by Airealataiel
Summary: [oneshot] After a tough day at work, everybody needs a little downtime. Mild slash. Some spoilers.


Title: Upside Down

Part: 1/1  
Author: Airealataiel  
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
Pairing: Nick/Warrick  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: "Grave Danger" … possibly parts of Season 6.  
Summary: After a tough day at work, everybody needs a little downtime.  
Disclaimer: Wish they were mine. Really, really wish.

The diner held less than a dozen people, going through the turbulences of what is commonly known as the "mid-life crisis", at four on a Tuesday morning. On the other side of the windows, street lamps illuminated patches here and there, though they could hardly be considered a compensation for sunlight; their eerie orange glow made the skin crawl and raised the hairs on the nape. Cars passed by periodically, spraying the sidewalk as they cruised through puddles from the night's rain. In the distance one could see the fluorescent glow of Las Vegas' strip.

A worker at the diner, dressed in a green apron, approached one of the customers; a slightly potbellied and balding man, slumped onto the table of one of the front window booths. "Some more coffee Ben?" he asked, with a genuine smile and a steaming thermos. Ben roused himself and stared deploringly at the manager's smile – white … strangely white. However, he succumbed to the need for caffeine and pushed his casino mug to the edge of the table – his only souvenir of the previous nights' misadventure.

The manager filled Ben's mug, scrutinizing his movements and eyeing him as if he expected something. Ben rifled his pudgy fingers through his wallet three times before he sighed in defeat. "Could you just put it on my tab Steve?" he inquired hopefully, though not meeting his eyes. Steve set down the thermos, straightened his apron, and extracted a notepad from one of the deep pockets, suddenly having adopted a strict professionalism. He jotted a few neat notes, flashed Ben one more smile, and whisked himself away just as the bell on the door jingled, indicating another customer.

A well-dressed, slimly toned man seated himself at the bar and ordered a beer. Steve recognized him at once; trimmed brown hair, mocha-latté eyes, a handsome smile, and creamy white skin a color deceiving for a man raised in Texas. He grinned and slid the young customer his drink. "On the house, Nick. How are ya? You look a little rough around the edges."

Nick nodded a greeting, took a swig of the beer, and glanced up to see Steve Malley smiling down on him from the other side of the counter. "I'm fine, Stevo."

"Tough night?"

"Hell, like nails," Nick replied, accentuating his reply with a long draught of the Budweiser. Even if he was drinking non-alcoholic, he liked to imagine it was taking a little of the edge away. Just for a while.

The manager leaned on the counter, half looking at Nick and half watching two men in the corner having a discussion in whispers. After a few moments, his full attention was back on the CSI sitting in front of him. "I thought your shift didn't end for another hour or so," he said, with the lightest hint of suspicion.

Nick examined the expression on Steve's face and found, though not surprisingly, that he didn't like it much. Although he had been a regular in this particular bar/diner for a few years now, and got along with the manager and all the other regulars just fine, Steve Malley always seemed a touch too disreputable for Nick to fully trust. "Got off early tonight. Not much happening at the lab, but that's pretty much all I can say about it." Steve nodded, and motioned that he'd be back; a party of six had just entered and were hailing him.

They were going to be a pretty good asset to the diner's profits today – Nick could tell without even turning around to look at them. He discerned two male voices and four female, not including Malley's. Some customers glanced around curiously, wondering who or why anyone, especially a large party of people, would come in to this place at 4:30 in the morning. Steve, though acting surprised, was surely not; he had strategically planned his land plot long ago, when he first decided to open a business. His diner was located just off of the edge of the strip, secluded enough to provide privacy but not too far away that it was a trip not worth taking. Nick knew that many times a month, some high profile patrons would show up with a large wad of big bills, and a demand for good service and freedom from paparazzi and other straying eyes. This bar had a much higher reputation than one might think just by looking at it.

All in all, Nick knew that any attention previously belonging to him was over for this visit, and he was quite glad for it. The night had proven much more difficult for him to get through than he had thought. He hadn't been able to focus at all … in fact, Grissom had reminded him three times to concentrate before he pulled Nick aside, gave him a sympathetic look, and told him to take the rest of the shift off; Nick had had no choice but to accept the fact that he just hadn't been working at his old standards. He left in frustration, and had decided to calm himself over a beer before he headed home.

Nick was halfway through his second Budweiser when the bell on the door rang again. He waited to hear Steve's characteristic, "Morning to you, sir/miss. How are you today?" When he didn't catch it, he figured that the manager was still in the back room with his party group. Nick sipped his beer, wondering why he even cared that the diner had another customer, then tried to shake it off, but footsteps behind him caused him to tense up. He was just getting ready to turn around and bolt out the door when someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"That you Nicky?" the person asked curiously. Nick relaxed at the familiar voice.

"Hey Warrick. What are you doing here?"

The other CSI dropped himself onto the stool next to Nick and glanced him over once before replying. "I could ask you the same," he said, with a grin mirrored on Nick's face. "I figured you'd have gone home, though. You look wiped man."

Nick bowed his head, then gazed into Warrick's intensely green eyes. "You're off early," he said instead.

"Yea. Grissom figured we could all use a bit of a break. Dismissed us about fifteen minutes after you left." Warrick ran a hand through his curls, shifted his weight a little, and dug around in his pockets, coming up with a few dollars. This he pinned to the cash register and helped himself to a coke. "So are you coming to work tomorrow?" he asked nervously.

Nick gave his friend a bemused look. "Yea, why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh … I don't know … I just thought maybe … you'd want a little time off or … something …" Nick could sense Warrick's uneasiness, and knew he was wishing he hadn't asked the question. He shrugged, trying to relieve Warrick of his discomfort, and took a rather large swallow of his drink, but it went down the wrong tube and he sputtered and coughed. Warrick patted Nick on the back and watched him carefully. When Nick met his gaze, he had expected to see sympathy or sorrow; something he was really starting to get tired of. His whole crew, which he had been friends with for years now, was treating him like a child ever since he had been kidnapped. What he hadn't been expecting to find was the expression Warrick wore; an intense fear and longing.

"Are you alright?" Nick asked. "You look like you're going to be sick or something…"

Warrick breathed more deeply when Nick recovered. For the moment that Nick had been choking, Warrick's heart had clenched unbearably tight and he feared beyond all else that he might lose Nick again. A flash of pain coursed through him when he recalled for a brief instant watching Nick on the computer screen with a gun to his throat. Warrick swallowed and nodded, for the moment incapable of words.

"I think I should get you back to your place," Nick said, worried for his friend. He stood and waited for Warrick, who seemed to have regained his color and composure. They walked out into the slightly breezy parking lot, and Nick was about to get in the car when he felt Warrick's hand on his chest. "What are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"I know you've been drinking non-alcoholic stuff man, but I haven't had any, and just in case, I think I better take you home instead." Warrick bore a strangely pleading expression, so Nick nodded and took the passenger side of the black SUV. They rode in silence for some time, Warrick's eyes on the road and Nick's gliding over the landscape as they made their way out of town to his house. The land was familiar, but something about the world around him had a slight sharpness to it that just barely changed it to something Nick's mind couldn't quite grasp.

As quickly as they had left, it seemed, they were already at Nick's house and Warrick walking him up to the door. Nick punched in the code to his security system that Warrick had helped him install a week after he was dug up from his 'grave', and stepped over the threshold. Flipping on the light, he flopped down on the couch and was about to turn on the tv when Warrick invaded the space between his eyes and the screen. He glanced up at his friend and pondered his peculiar expression.

'_Something is definitely not right with him,_' was what Nick discerned. Warrick was looking much more uneasy now, and Nick wished that he hadn't had anything at the bar, though he doubted his ability to perceive things had been much affected. "Hey 'Rick, is something wrong?" Nick asked cautiously. "Is Tina alright?"

Warrick blanched a bit and shifted his weight, avoiding Nick's eyes. "She's fine," he said softly. "Perfect…"

"Are you alright then?" he posed, and the briefest flash of memory reminded him of the stricken expression, the hot tears on his cheeks, the frantic scrambling, when Warrick had found him at last. Warrick, as though he had thought of the same thing, steadied his breath and looked deep into Nick's eyes. The gaze was so intense that Nick had half the mind to tear himself away when Warrick took one of Nick's hands in his and placed it over his chest. Nick felt something round and hard hanging from a chain around Warrick's neck. "What's this?"

Warrick reached into his shirt and pulled out a silver chain with something round dangling from it. He leaned closer to Nick and placed it in his hand; for a moment the pair sat together in silence, then suddenly Nick gave out a strangled gasp. "Why do you have that?" he asked, glaring hard at Warrick with a demand for a good explanation.

"Nicky," he said, taking the slightly smaller man's hand gently, "when we found out you were taken … I … I didn't know what to think, except that it was my fault …" Nick opened his mouth to argue, but Warrick pressed a finger to it and took a deep breath.

"And then we got the link … to the camera … and every moment I wanted to watch you … to make sure you were okay … even though it was agonizing to see you suffer … I wanted to always be sure that you were there … that you were still as okay as you could be, in that situation …" Tears had started to form in Warrick's eyes, but he pressed on. "I couldn't bear it … I couldn't eat, or sleep … I couldn't think straight. I just kept thinking of how it was my fault … and … that I would rather it had been me …"

Nick swallowed hard and stared at Warrick, his full attention on his friend's lips, now moving again. "… it was … so hard … _so hard_, to watch you like that … and to have to wonder if I'd see you again … I-" Warrick's words were cut off by a wracking sob, and he buried his face in his hands.

Nick had no idea how to feel. He was beyond touched at his friend's confession; Nick had known from the moment he was put in the ambulance, even though it was Grissom that calmed him down to save him, that it had been Warrick who was affected most. They hadn't had to share the words for Nick to know Warrick's pain, and his loyalty; waking up in the hospital to Warrick waiting patiently by his side was enough … so he wasn't sure why he was now telling him this.

"Nick … I-"

"It's alright, I know," Nick said softly. "I understand."

"I don't think you do …" Warrick added, slightly tightening his grip on Nick's hand. Nick glanced down at their interlocked fingers, and when he looked up again, Warrick was leaning toward him. He wasn't sure what was going on, but nothing in his mind protested the movement when he realized that Warrick's warm lips were touching his own. When Warrick pulled away, the tingling sensation lingered on Nick's lips, confusion playing with the corner of his mouth. "Nick …" Warrick said hoarsely, partly in shock at his own daring move, and partly afraid of his friend's reaction.

Nick, however, had no notion of distress or anger. The confusion quickly cleared, and before Warrick could form another word, he was pressing his lips back onto the ones that had been imposed upon his only moments ago. Warrick gasped in surprise, and Nick took the opportunity to take hold of Warrick's lower lip with his teeth. He nibbled it lightly, then pulled away, glad to see that his perplexity had slipped from his own expression to his friend's.

Warrick wasted little time in being puzzled, though. He gently pushed Nick down and pressed him into a hard kiss, their tongues wrapping around the other's and exploring the other, until neither could breathe. At last Warrick pulled away to get some oxygen to his spinning brain. Nick gazed up at him with a silly grin, and they simultaneously wondered how long the other had been yearning for this. Warrick leaned over to nibble Nick's earlobe when the phone rang.

"Sorry," he mumbled hoarsely, "gotta get that." Warrick stood and allowed Nick to get up, but he didn't let him get away before he had given his ass a quick squeeze. Nick yelped and shot Warrick a teasing glower, then hurried over to the phone before the answering machine could get it.

"Hello? Oh, yea, hi. I'm fine, you? Oh, what's wrong?" Nick glanced over at Warrick, who returned the worried expression. "You haven't seen him since he left for work last night? I thought he told you … what? Oh … no, he's over here. Well, he was, he just left. Yea, work stuff…" he laughed and waggled his eyebrows at Warrick. "Hey, now, I can't go around telling people about cases … haha, no, neither can Warrick. I'm sure he'll be home in a little while. Yea … okay … bye Tina."

Nick put the phone back on the hook with a click and sauntered over to Warrick, who was trying to hide a guilty grin. "Your wife is looking for you," Nick whispered into his ear. Warrick shivered under the warm breath on the side of his face. "I told her you'd be home soon."

Warrick shook his head in disagreement and delicately bit the side of Nick's neck. He kissed Nick's collarbone from one shoulder to the other, then came back to Nick's mouth. Nick indulged in one more hard kiss before he pulled away. Wrapping his arms around Warrick's waist, he drew their bodies together and murmured playfully in Warrick's ear, "I'll see you at work tomorrow." Warrick opened his mouth to reply, but Nick never found out what he was about to say, for he had already handed Warrick his coat and pushed him out the door with a teasing grin. When the SUV was out of sight, Nick leaned against the door and laughed softly, bringing one silky finger to his warm lips.


End file.
